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Friday, December 30, 2016

The Goblin of Wishes -- a flashfic

For my blog entry this time, I offer a poetic, weird little flashfic for fun. My gift to this month of December, 2016.

The Goblin of Wishes

Wendy Rathbone

On
a moon called Firelight, in a sector of space more like black marble than
hollow

void, lived the goblin of wishes.

Where
he walked, all energy bent and curved beneath him like candle flame. His hair
leaked phosphorescence. He gave off a sugared scent.

At
his core lay cold dark like longing, the taste of far voyages and dreamless
nights.

No
one who encountered him could capture and keep him, though many tried, hoping
they could force him to make their wishes come true.

One
day, in a starship shaped like a twist of ribbon, came three astronauts from
three different sectors of space.

They
kidnapped the goblin of wishes and put him in rooms of silk, behind bars of
gold.

The
goblin never defended himself. He was taken easily, with nets made of lilies
and silver foam, and led to the cage where all of manner currency to buy his
services awaited him. Poems. Rings. Roses. Pretty cards with funny bears on
them. Promises. Violins. Wine. Rain sounds on a curtained window.

He
was given furs and leather, shirts of taffeta. Boots of dragon scale. Kilts of
alien light.

Songs
carved from the tongues of extinct fairies filled the rooms.

The
goblin sat among his beautiful gifts, in his prison, and said nothing.

He
watched his captors with still eyes that rarely blinked, watched what they
favored, how they moved and talked, what they ate, studied their language and
what might be missing.

He
knew what they wanted from him. It was why they treated him well.

One
day, the astronaut called Million came to him and said, “If you can give me my
heart’s desire, I will drug the others and set you free.”

The
goblin produced, as if from the air, a small oval hand-mirror in a frame carved
with images of snakes eating each other’s tails.

Million
took the mirror and looked into it. He cried out, for within were the ghostly
images of his wife and daughter, dead from an alien plague.

“This
is a trick!” he said. “I will never set you free!” But he took the mirror
anyway, and could not stop looking into it.

The
edge of the goblin’s mouth lifted in a half-smile at the word “free”, for these
astronauts were incapable of holding him forever, for they were mortal and he
was not.

The
second astronaut, Clea, came to see him later that evening when the ship was
humming quietly and the goblin could hear the sad, grieving dreams of Million
as he slept, and the erotic dreams of the third astronaut as he dozed in a
fitful slumber.

Clea
had blue hair and doll-like brown eyes, but those two traits were all that were
physically beautiful about her. The rest of her—face, hands, body—was lumpy and
scarred. Her mouth formed a hole beneath purple, misshapen cheeks.

“No
one will love me because of how I look,” Clea told the goblin. “If you can help
me, I will find a way to return you to your moon.”

As
if from thin air, the goblin produced the loveliest mask in the galaxy, with
filigreed edges and a feathered crown. Lunar lavender rhinestones outlined the
holes for the eyes.

“You
want me to wear that? Ridiculous! Offensive! Monstrous!”

But
Clea took the mask from him anyway and left, her promise to let him go
unfulfilled.

The
goblin waited two days for the third astronaut, Gren, to visit.

The
first thing Gren said to him was, “Clea and Million are not happy.”

The
goblin watched Gren as he paced before the golden bars of the caged room. Gren
had a kind face and smile, but he seemed shy. His black hair fell in a glossy
braid down his back. He had a habit of chewing his lower lip. He would not
allow his body to be still, to be himself.

“You
fulfilled their wishes in ways they do not like. I’m not sure if I should ask
you what you might have in store for my wish.”

The
goblin did not need Gren to voice his wish. He’d felt it through the ship’s
bulkheads for three days. He motioned Gren close. The young man hesitated, but
finally moved forward until his chin nearly touched the bars.

The
goblin came to him. Their faces were very close. Through the bars he leaned in
and kissed Gren delicately on the lips.

Gren
was the only one who hadn’t promised the goblin anything for his wish.

But
it was Gren who stayed with the goblin after he took him home, where space is
more like black marble than hollow void.